


Destiel who?

by thequeenofhellmademedoit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, LARPing, M/M, My First Fanfic, Not Canon Compliant, clumsy!cas, elf!cas, i love this fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 22:04:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenofhellmademedoit/pseuds/thequeenofhellmademedoit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Cas go to a LARP event to hang with Charlie. Dean and Cas get lost. Shenanigans ensue. Also, Charlie tells Sam about ships. This was fun, lemme tell ya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiel who?

**Author's Note:**

> Not canon. But not au, either. Just pure crack and fluff to help me get through this gut wrenching season.

"What exactly is the point of this again, Dean?" Cas asks,  
the slightest hint of incredulity in his otherwise inflectionless tone.

"It's supposed to be fun, Cas. You dress up in all this cool costumey stuff and you act like you're somebody else for the day. It's called LARPing." Dean replies as he, Cas, and Sam enter the medieval style tent.

"Sam, Dean, Cas! I can't believe you guys made it! This is gonna be so awesome!" Charlie cries as she sees the men enter.

"Good to see you, Charlie! Already in costume, I see!" Sam replies in greeting, giving her a bear hug.

"Of course! The Queen of Moons must always come prepared. And how is my faithful handmaiden?" She asks, addressing Dean.

"Good. And you, Your Majesty?" Dean replies, grinning widely and sweeping her into his own hug.

"I'll be much better once you three are all in proper attire. It will not do for the Queen to be seen with... outsiders." She says, whispering the last word like it tastes bad in her mouth. "But first, how are you, Cas? I've missed my favorite angel!"

"I am well, Charlie. Thank you for asking. But is it a normal human custom to dress up in period wear from the thirteenth century and play pretend with a bunch of strangers? If it is it's a very strange one."

"Of course it's normal, Cas! A lot of people do it." Charlie eyes him closely. "Cas... you're not.... nervous, are you?"

"Of course not. Why would I be nervous?" Cas says quickly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trench coat.

"Well then, try this on!" Charlie challenges, throwing him an outfit from inside one of her trunks. She grabs two more, looks them over quickly, then tosses one each to Sam and Dean. "And don't think I've forgotten you two! Now all three of you go change! That's an order!"

***  
Ten minutes later the three men walk out of the changing stalls in full regalia. Dean has on the same costume he wore the last time, with brown leggings a red tunic, and foam broadsword. The sun glints off the chain mail adorning his right shoulder.Sam has on grey leggings with a purple doublet, set off nicely by a sliver embroidered cape. Leather gloves, boots, and a foam axe complete his ensemble, and as an added touch his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Cas looks extremely uncomfortable in his getup, which consists of leather boots, cream colored leggings, a blue v-neck tunic with silver embroidery, leather gauntlets, a white bow and a quiver full of foam tipped arrows, and topping everything off, a set of well-applied elf-ears and a silver circlet that looks like an exact replica of the elf lord Elrond's from Lord of the Rings.

Dean's jaw drops the second he sees Cas, clearly in a state of shock. Sam looks at the angel appreciative, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

 

Cas notices Dean's amazement and his face reddens self-consciously. 

"Is there something wrong with my costume, Dean? Did I put something on the wrong place?"

"No, Cas, uh.. you look... you look good!" Dean stammers, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Sam clears his throat. "Well if you two are done ogling each other," (Dean sputters incoherently) "let's go find her Majesty and get this show on the road!"

They head back towards Charlie's tent, struggling to keep track of one another through the suddenly thickening crowds.

"Sam! Wait up! I can't see you!" Dean yells towards the spot he last saw Sam's head disappears into the throng. He checks to make sure Cas is still with him-- thankfully the angel is right there, standing too close for comfort as usual.

"Cas, if this were any other time, I swear, dude." Dean mutters, then he grabs Cas's sleeve and tries to push through the wave of people, but to no avail.

"Maybe we should just follow the crowd then circle back around, Dean." Cas offers helpfully, all the while being buffeted by the endless tide of bodies. 

"Alright, good thinking, Cas. I just hope I can remember which tent Charlie's in..."

***  
"Sam! Don't you look dashing!" Charlie gushes as Sam re-enters the tent. "But where are Dean and Cas?"

"Huh? I thought they were right behind me..." Sam says, looking around, and then peering back through the tent opening to see if he can spot them in the throng of people outside. "They must have gotten swept up in the crowd. It'll take forever to find them, now!"

"Don't sweat it, Sam. I'm sure they'll get back soon enough. I mean, this is your brother and Cas we're talking about. They've navigated their way out of Hell before. How lost could they get?"

***  
"How lost can we get, Cas?" Dean cries in desperation, staring around at the rows of identical tents, none of which look familiar to him in the slightest. They are now in a rather deserted part of the LARP field, with hardly anyone around.

"That depends, Dean. How bad is your sense of direction at this point in time?" Cas deadpans.

If looks could kill sentient beings, the glare Dean shoots at Cas would be enough to vaporize him on the spot. Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and inhales deeply.

"Okay, Cas. Let's just start back in the direction that we came. If we retrace our steps we'll find our way back eventually."

They begin walking. 

"But Dean, what about the cr-- Aaaagghhh!" Cas yells as he trips in his awkward new footwear. Dean smoothly catches him before he can hit the ground. 

"You okay, Cas?" Dean grunts as he holds the angel against him.

"Yes, Dean. Thank you. These boots, I'm not exactly used to them just yet." Cas mumbles shyly as he regains his balance with the help of Dean's strong grip.

"No problem, Cas." Dean says gruffly, all too aware of exactly how CLOSE him and Cas are at the moment. "Hey Cas, I think you got some grass on your tunic. Here let me get it..." Dean quickly reaches up to Cas's shoulder and gently brushes the offending grass away. He lets his hand rest there afterwards, however, causing Cas to look up confusedly.

"Dean. What are you--"

He's cut off as Dean rushes against him, pressing their mouths together and locking them in place. Suddenly Dean is everywhere, and with him comes intense heat and an even more intense LONGING, like this was some essential thing Castiel had needed all along, but had never realized it until now. Dean continues his onslaught, biting Cas's lips and then soothing them with his tongue, begging entry to Cas's mouth. Cas grants it, and their tongues collide in a battle for dominance. Dean groans against Cas's mouth, swept up in the feeling that floods him at the angel's acceptance of him. He places his other hand on Cas's waist and pulls him closer, fitting the angel's body snugly against his own...

***  
"Do you see then anywhere?" Charlie asks Sam as they make their way through the crowd. 

"No, not yet. I can't believe they've been gone this long." Sam replies, using his height advantage to peer over the heads of the people passing by. "I wonder what could possibly be taking them so long to get back."

"Well, Sam, you know, I have this theory..." Charlie starts, wagging her eyebrows in a very accurate nod to Dean's best Groucho Marx impression.

"Awe, come on, Charlie! I didn't need to hear that!" Sam complains, covering his eyes and shaking his head as if trying to shake the mental image loose. "It's bad enough I have to watch them eye fuck each other across the room every other day." 

" Hey, I'm just saying, there are a lot of people out there who definitely would not be opposed to a little Destiel action--"

"A little WHAT action?"

"Destiel. You know, Dean plus Castiel, kinda like Brangelina?"

"Oh, God, there's a NAME FOR IT? And what people? Who could possibly-- oh, Carver Edlund? "

"Mhm. Yup. So many Destiel shippers."

"Destiel who?"

"Shippers, people who want one romance or another to come up between fictional characters. Get with the times, Sam. It's a big part of any fandom. "

"Oh, so some of the stuff I read about me and Dean..." Sam shudders convulsively at the memory.

"Yup. That's Wincest. "

"Well what did you expect, Sam? Two brothers travel around the country together in a cramped little car with virtually no strong female presence, like, ever... imaginations are bound to supply the rest."

"Okay, I am stopping this conversation right there." Sam says, a tortured expression on his face.

Charlie giggles. "Oh, but Sam, are you sure you don't want to hear about Sabriel?" She teases. 

"Sabriel? What the--"

"Sam. Plus. Gabriel. "

"Done. We are done with this conversation. Now." Sam orders, his face darkened about five shades redder than usual.

Charlie laughs, but acquiecses, and they resume searching. By this time they have reached the edge of the crowd, and they make their way through the more deserted rows of tents. Soon they come across a tent that looks as if its occupants are rather... occupied at the moment, but still there is no sign of Dean or Cas.

"Where could they have gotten to?" Sam cries, flinging his hands in the air in frustration. 

Just then the noises from the populated tent cease and Dean pops his head out, looking slightly disheveled. 

"Sammy, that you?"

"Dean! Where have you been? And where's Cas?" Sam asks peevishly. 

"Umm, hold that thought." Dean says as he pops his head back inside the tent.

A few seconds later Dean and Cas walk out of the tent, their costumes slightly askew and their cheeks flushed redder than usual. Both men look like the cat who ate the canary, and neither look at each other for more than a second before glancing away again in the opposite direction.

Sam looks from Dean to Cas to Charlie, a look of utter incredulity on his face. Charlie looks back at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"I told you so!" She declares triumphantly, then spins on her heel and marches off, towing a dumbstruck Sam and two very sheepish men behind her.

FIN


End file.
